Behind Closed Eyes
by Yesm777
Summary: The team's back stateside for a few months, and Adam is struggling to endure the day to day. Angsty Adam. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Hey, all. Sorry I've been gone for so long. This last year was very . . . hard in a few ways. I recently experienced a very trying family tragedy, but I've been very blessed and am coping with it very well. I would share details, but I would never want a reader to walk into something they weren't expecting (especially if they came here to escape something else). You're all awesome, and you all deserve to have a happy, safe space to read. :)_

_Moving on to other things, I will say I was pretty upset when _The Brave _was canceled. Two of my favorite shows in the whole world were prematurely cut down! So sad. But I've got some fanfics cooking for this fandom. So if you're still around, I hope you enjoy 'em as they're posted. This particular fic will be a two-parter. Again, you're all great! :)_

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It was eerily quiet. A clock ticked in the background, and the occasional hum of a running car passed by the house. But it wasn't enough to stave off the suffocating silence.

It was strange being home. Well, what was supposed to be his home.

The lonely quiet didn't exactly feel homey.

Adam was used to the roar of military vehicles day in and day out and the chatter of his teammates in the evenings.

The chatter of his family.

He didn't have any family here. The small house felt more like a hollow, lifeless shell. A place to endure instead of live. And the pressing silence coaxed the darker demons of his past and job out of the woodwork.

Adam had thought about calling Preach . . . or any of them really. He'd even considered inviting Patricia or Noah or even Hannah out to lunch. But they all had their lives, and he wasn't about to bother them just to satisfy his need for comfortable noise.

He rubbed at his eyes, wearily glancing at the clock. Every tick of the second hand echoed through the empty house, mocking him. Just two more months of this, then he'd be back home.

His phone sat on the empty kitchen table, dark and lifeless. He'd been trying to fill his time as best he could; he did some work on the little house, he cleared some stubborn shrubbery from the yard, and he bulked up his workout routine to add some time. But he couldn't fill all the empty minutes, and the evenings were often blank and lifeless.

For Adam, they were almost painful.

He took a deep breath, his eyes drifting to the window. It was late afternoon. The shadows were starting to get longer, the sunlight softening as time went on.

In Turkey, he was somebody. He was somebody to someone. Here, he was nothing, and his idle thoughts were quick to remind him.

Here, he was alone.

Anxious to chase away the cruel taunts of his mind, he got up from the table, wandering over to the kitchen. A small stack of dishes sat in the sink, waiting to be washed. Without anything else to do, Adam set to scrubbing the porcelain white.

Dishwashing turned to wiping down counters. And wiping down counters turned to nitpicky cleaning of all the cracks and crevices in the tiny kitchen. Forty-five minutes easily slipped by, filled by a desperate search for chores.

And then there was a knock at the door.

Adam paused, thinking he may have misheard. A handful of long seconds ticked by before being interrupted by impatient pounding at the door. Confused, he tossed his damp sponge into the sink and moved to answer it.

Unlocking the deadbolt, he hesitantly opened the door, only for it to be shoved open by none other than Jaz Kahn.

"Took you long enough," she teased, packs of beer in her hands. "We've been trying to call you for the last thirty minutes."

Preach followed behind her, grocery bags in his arms. He tossed Adam an apologetic smile before heading into the kitchen. A familiar bickering followed behind him as Amir and McG pushed their way through the door.

His team was here. He hadn't even asked and they were here.

McG stopped teasing Amir for a moment before turning to look at his team leader. "The director and her two favorite underlings are coming later. Said they'd be here in a couple hours."

Adam nodded, trying not to let his bewilderment show. Why were they here? Had he missed something?

He heard a whistle from the kitchen. "Wow, Top. You're kitchen is _really _clean," Jaz observed loudly. "Makes me feel bad about my kitchen."

Adam laughed warmly, burying his embarrassment. Probably shouldn't tell them he'd cleaned out of an all-consuming boredom and loneliness. Thinking about it kind of made him feel pathetic. He was a grown man, damn it. He should be able to easily endure a handful of months stateside.

He should be able to. But somehow, the empty shadows taunted him and the ringing silence gnawed at his thoughts.

They didn't need to know that.

McG wandered to the kitchen, already throwing a joke at Preach before he'd even made it into the room. Adam stayed behind, Amir beside him with a smile. The smaller man looked over, the soft upward curve of his lips melting into a frown.

"Still struggling with the change in time zone? You look kind of tired."

Adam spared him a glance before looking back toward the kitchen. "Yeah, I'm getting there. I'll get used to the time difference soon enough."

It was all a lie. Adam had no issue switching between time zones. He was pretty good at rearranging his sleep schedule as needed; it came in handy for most long ops.

But it unnerved him that Amir had noticed his weariness. He wasn't sleeping well, but not because of any time zone.

Amir softly clapped a hand on Adam's shoulder. "Well, let's get this party started." With a grin, he followed his teammates into the kitchen, Adam staying behind. The team leader was feeling a little taken off guard. He was still trying to tamp down his surprise at seeing them all here. He was fully prepared to spend the next couple months biding his time. Most would think of their overseas assignment as something that kept them away from their lives for lengthy periods of time.

But for Adam, his life _was _over there.

Again, he didn't have any family waiting for him on this side of the ocean, and he hadn't given himself the chance to develop any hobbies. His job was everything. His team was everything. Without either, he was without a purpose.

A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. He locked eyes with Preach. The taller man smiled warmly. "Let's go fire up the grill. Take a break from all their bickering."

Adam hadn't even noticed the playful banter between the other three team members. Their voices carried loudly from the kitchen, spotted with even louder laughter. He smirked.

"We'll leave them to it," he chuckled, following Preach to the back door.

"How have you been, Top? Haven't seen or heard from you in a couple of weeks."

Adam was thrown by the statement, glancing up at his best friend. There was a look in Preach's eyes, as if he knew something. But it couldn't be. Adam had been so careful to keep his feelings to himself.

"I've been good. Just keeping busy." He nearly winced when he realized what he'd said. It sounded worse than he'd thought it would. Perhaps he should've said he'd _been _busy instead of _keeping _busy.

Preach simply nodded, prepping the grill.

Frantic, Adam hastily changed the subject. "How's the fam? Kids liking school?"

There was a small pause as Preach raised his eyebrows. "They're fine. Kids are starting to realize school's not all fun and games, so I can't say they're quite as thrilled with the whole idea as they used to be."

"Well, it was bound to happen," Adam laughed.

Preach eyed him carefully, taking in the darkness under Adam's eyes and that almost empty look in his gaze. He knew Adam struggled being stateside, but he'd always forgotten just how difficult it was for the team leader.

"You sure you're okay?" Preach asked, frowning a little.

"Yeah, fine. I'm fine." Adam smiled broadly, attempting to hide the tired lines of his face.

Preach turned away from the grill, really drinking in his friend. "The missus and I would love to have you over for dinner this week, if you're free. She's been dying to see you."

He didn't miss the almost imperceptible surprise that briefly passed over the team leader's face.

"Yeah, just tell me when and I'll be there," Adam replied amicably.

Something akin to worry bloomed in Preach's chest. "Top, tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing." The answer was too quick. Hasty, even.

Preach leveled a look at his commanding officer. His best friend. A man he had more respect for than almost anyone he'd ever known. "Adam, I've known you for a long time." Briefly, he wondered if Adam was simply bothered by the sudden interruption to his day, but it wasn't that. "You look like you haven't been sleeping, and Jaz was right; your kitchen is really clean. _Too _clean."

"Yeah, so I cleaned it. So what?"

"You don't think I know you clean as a distraction? And I noticed you've done some substantial yard work recently. Like I said, I've known you for a long time."

The smaller man looked a little uncomfortable, realizing that Preach was much more observant than he gave him credit for.

"What are you trying to distract yourself from?"

Preach's question weighed heavily in the air, pressing on Adam from all sides. But he wasn't going to give in. Preach didn't have to know. None of them had to know.

"Look, Top. I worry about you spending all your time here alone," the larger man sighed. "Our job isn't easy, and it leaves a mark. And when we're all together, it's easier to forget some of the things we've seen and done. But here, when we're apart, it's tough."

Adam didn't know why Preach was telling him all this. He understood it. Always had.

Preach continued.

"I've already gotten a call from Jaz in the middle of the night to make sure I was alive and well; Amir stopped by my house once just to make my family dinner out of the blue; and McG invited me out for drinks one evening just to chat. But I've heard nothing from you."

The fading, orange light of the day accentuated the shadows on Adam's face as he clenched his jaw. Of course Preach would notice.

Adam had received a few calls of his own. Team members just checking in, an easy disguise to cover their call for what it was: reassurance. And while he answered those calls without a second thought, placating their fears with casual small talk, he'd never considered making a call of his own. Instead, he painstakingly convinced himself that they were all fine. Sometimes, it took an hour or more. But he wouldn't bother them with it. He wouldn't.

"I . . ." he paused, looking down at his boots.

"Just talk to me, Adam. I mean, you're always a little distant when we're stateside. But this is different."

"I don't . . ." Adam stopped, rubbing at his eyes. "I don't want to bother anybody."

A breeze drifted by. Preach's heart sank.

"Top, you're not bothering anybody. We want to hear from you. Let us be there like you are for us." Preach's voice was soft. Low.

Adam shook his head. "No, you all have your lives."

"And _you're _part of them."

A heavy silence hung between them, their eyes meeting. Preach could see the unspoken pain and loneliness in Adam's eyes. Something he'd never thought he'd see. In Turkey, the team leader was always strong, brave, and put together. And when conflict arose, he was driven and focused.

And yet, looking at him now, he seemed so lost.

Preach let a breath billow from his lungs. Of course he seemed lost. "It's been a hard year, Top. For everyone. But as the team leader, it had to be especially hard on you. We lost a teammate. Jaz was taken. I was . . . in that coma for several weeks. There's no way all that hasn't affected you."

Blue eyes bore into his. Guilt, sorrow, anxiety. It all pooled in azure irises.

"You're my brother, Adam. I'm worried about you."

Adam's brow furrowed as he looked away. A dull pain throbbed in his chest, his emotions threatening to escape. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they did.

With a huff, he made his way to a scattering of chairs to drop into a seat. Preach followed him, slipping into a chair.

"I . . . I can't sleep," Adam muttered. "Everytime I close my eyes, I just . . . I see everything. How it could've turned out. Never getting Jaz back. Or getting her back and watching her fall apart. You never waking from a coma. Having to tell your wife and kids. Being blamed." He shook his head. "And I see the part of myself I never want to see."

Adam looked at Preach. "I killed a man, Preach. In cold blood."

"You had to."

"No. No, I didn't. But in that moment, I hated him so much. I hated him for everything he did. What he did to you. And I told myself that he was a threat that had to be eliminated. And maybe he was. But that wasn't why I did it."

For a minute, Preach didn't know what to say. Clouds drifted by. The everyday sounds of the neighborhood buzzed quietly in the background. As if the world didn't care about the weight on this man's shoulders.

"Top, you make a lot of sacrifices. I don't think even you realize how many."

Adam looked up at that.

"You do a lot of things to protect us. Like that time in China. And especially when it comes to things that can haunt a person for the rest of their lives." Preach stared at the ground, years of wisdom reflecting in his eyes. "You face a lot of demons so we don't have to. In a way . . . I think Hoffman was one of those demons. And you just acted naturally. To protect us from him. To protect Patricia."

"You don't have to justify it, Preach."

"Maybe I don't. But I know you, Top. And I know you don't deserve to feel like this. After everything you've been through bearing the weight of this team, you don't deserve this."

He caught Adam's gaze and held it. And he could almost hear Adam's response.

_Maybe I do._

Hell, how could he feel like that? Why did he have to?


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: And this chapter ends this fic! Thanks for taking the time to read. Hope you enjoyed._

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Jaz stood at the door, listening to the quiet conversation outside. She couldn't believe it. She just couldn't.

McG and Amir laughed in the kitchen, joking as they made homemade burger patties. They were blissfully unaware of the darkness that went on in their leader's mind. The guilt. The horrors. And she would be too if she hadn't stopped to listen just before walking outside. Now, she couldn't find it in her to push through the door at all.

She thought back to her abduction. She'd never stopped to think about what it had done to him. It was a frightening situation for anyone. But the others depended on him. _She _depended on him, even if she hadn't expected him to rescue her. He had to carry the weight of the decision-making. And he had to be strong. For the rest of them.

If anything had happened to her, _he'd _have to carry that blame all by himself.

It felt like a punch in the gut. To think they depended on him to the point where they expected him to be solid all the time. Yet, he must've hurt so much more in so many different ways.

A sufferer in silence.

Feeling almost overwhelmed, she dropped her hand from the doorknob and looked toward the kitchen. McG let out a loud "ha!" as Amir insulted his patty-making skills. She didn't want to ruin the mood.

But she had to tell somebody. And they should know.

Jaz quietly made her way back to the kitchen, her eyes on the floor with her brow furrowed. It didn't take long for the other two to notice.

"What's up, Jaz?" Amir asked, pulling away from the bowl of seasoned ground beef. "You okay?"

She didn't answer. How could she answer? Was she okay? She didn't know. But it wasn't about her, was it? Or maybe, in a way, it was.

Jaz opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it.

The room was abuzz with an anxious electricity. McG fidgeted. "What's wrong?"

"I . . ." She swallowed, shaking her head before looking up at her teammates. "I heard some things. 'Bout Top."

Amir frowned. "When?"

"Just now," Jaz huffed, gesturing toward the back door. The two men shifted a little, worried by her reaction.

"What things?" McG asked, glancing out the window. Preach and Adam were seated, and only Preach's face was visible. Judging by his expression, they weren't sharing laughs.

"Said he can't sleep. Says he . . . sees things."

McG didn't want to ask, but he had to. "Sees what?" The question came out flat. More like a soft demand than a question.

"Preach not coming out of that coma. Me . . . not being rescued. Him . . . killing Hoffman." She paused as they all internalized the information. "I guess I never realized how much he has to deal with as the team leader." Seconds ticked by in silence, the three of them lost in thought. "He mentioned being blamed. Like it was something he feared. And I guess . . . I guess I never thought about how every decision weighs on him."

"I can't say it didn't cross my mind," Amir sighed. "I mean, when you were taken, Jaz . . . should've seen him."

She looked up at him, brows stitched together in worried confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he was as focused and determined as always," McG explained, folding his arms over his chest. "But he wouldn't sleep. Wouldn't eat. Just threw himself into finding you. Not sure what he would've done if we didn't get you back."

Amir pursed his lips together. "I'm glad we never found out."

McG shrugged a little, giving her a small, sad smile. "I think Preach sees most of it. I mean, he knows Top pretty well."

"But why wouldn't he tell us?" she pressed, frustrated by all of it. Why did he have to keep it to himself? "Said he didn't want to bother anyone. But why? Why would he feel that way?"

Amir turned back to the bowl, pulling a handful of seasoned beef to shape it into a patty. "Well, I mean, he is in a leadership position. Traditionally, he's supposed to be the pillar of the team. Most of the time, that means being the strength and support others can rely on."

McG nodded. "I think he's so focused on being what we need that he doesn't really think about what he needs."

"Not fair," Jaz muttered. "It's not fair."

The other two didn't reply, simply returning to their task for a moment.

McG let out a sigh as he molded the beef in his hands. "For now, I think the best thing to do is to let him be. Let him have a chance at normalcy for a second. I think he'd be upset if he found out we all knew."

Jaz didn't like it, but he had a point. Adam had a pride that was hard to explain. And he was more protective of his team than anything else. She questioned why he'd keep his feelings to himself, but truly, she knew why. To him, it was important that his team trusted him. That they had someone to turn to for support when they needed. To him, his team needed him to back all their plays. To understand. To make the hard decisions.

She understood. She did. But it still hurt to think of him in the little house, trying to stuff his own messy feelings and nightmares back into the bottle. Alone.

Jaz looked around at the immaculate kitchen. It held such a different meaning now. A reminder of how much darkness Adam had to push down into the recesses of his mind.

"Yeah, okay. For now, we'll forget anything happened," she mumbled, swiping a hand over her brow bone.

"That's the spirit," McG replied, a watered down humor in his voice.

And they put on a damn good show.

Adam and Preach came back in soon after the three's joint decision, all smiles and jokes. Jaz played along like she was on an undercover gig, laughing easily. But her heart broke just a little to watch Adam pretend. Like he wasn't clawing out of his own fears these days. As if he wasn't plagued by nightmares in the dark.

And all five of them were so convincing that their DC team couldn't spot the lie. They sipped beer and swallowed bites of burger past lost appetites. They swapped stories. They laughed.

And Adam was perhaps the best actor of them all.

If Jaz wasn't so sure of what she'd heard, she'd almost forget he'd said anything at all. She didn't doubt that being with his team gave him comfort and maybe even a little happiness. But her stomach churned knowing just how much he put them before himself.

Other than Preach, he was possibly the strongest of them all. She knew that even if he was stumbling, he'd always find the strength to support his team. So to her, she'd always have faith in him. Even if he crumbled, even if he admitted he needed help, she know she could rely on him. She always would.

But he didn't seem to know that.

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Jaz couldn't sleep.

Her mind ran in circles, always going back to Adam. She'd seen the way Preach had hugged Adam goodbye just a little too long. The way the older man seemed reluctant to leave his friend behind. And she knew why. She felt the same.

Maybe she should go over there.

But it was late.

She picked her phone up from her bedside table and squinted against the bright light of the screen. Just after three in the morning. So maybe not as late as it was early.

Jaz laid her head back on her pillow, staring at the ceiling. He was probably fine. Top was strong.

And yet, this had nothing to do with strength.

With a start, she rolled out of bed, grabbing a clean sweatshirt off a lounge chair. She was going. Consequences be damned.

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Now that she was close, she wasn't so sure of her decision. He could've been sleeping. But now that she was so close, it seemed pointless to turn back now.

Jaz turned onto his street, driving slowly as she approached his house.

His lights were on. He was awake.

Her breath caught in her throat. She had to do this, no matter what McG and Amir said.

Maneuvering her car smoothly to park next to the curb, she hastily put it in park and turned off the ignition. For a moment, she just looked at the lit window of the house, wondering how this would turn out. Maybe it would go poorly. But honestly, it was worth the risk.

Determined, she got out of her car and practically speed-walked to his door. She didn't know what would greet her on the other side. No matter what it was, she was ready for it.

She raised her fist, taking a deep breath.

Then she knocked. Softly. Carefully.

For a few seconds, there was silence. She wondered if she made a mistake. Then there were footsteps, approaching the door with a slow confusion. The steps stopped right in front of the door, pausing. A cricket chirped, the soft sound echoing in the evening. She was here now, and she wasn't leaving.

The door opened, and she was almost surprised by the man on the other side.

For once, he looked ragged. He wasn't acting this time. Red rimmed his eyes, and his short hair was disheveled. His shoulders slouched with the weight of a thousand bricks.

He just looked . . . tired.

"Everything okay, Jaz?"

She blinked. Of course, his first thought was her well-being. Not his.

"I'm fine, Top." She looked him over a second time, her eyes lingering on the almost bruise-like smudges under his eyes. "Are you?"

"I'm fine," he answered quickly, still trying to figure out what she was doing there. She could see him looking for signs of distress. She'd seen that face a lot after her abduction.

"Are you really? 'Cause you sure don't look it."

He stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowing. "It's nothing to worry about. I'm more worried about you." He looked at his watch. "It's almost four in the morning."

Jaz sighed, hands in her pockets. "Top, I'm here . . . I'm here for you."

His lips parted in surprise, and he stared at her questioningly.

"I . . . I heard you talking to Preach today."

Adam shut his mouth, faint lines of terror sinking into his guise.

"I was awake and I just thought . . . I _wanted _to check up on you. To make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine," he repeated hastily, shifting uncomfortably.

Jaz shuffled her feet. "It's okay if you're not."

At that, he looked both confused and wary. Out of his element.

She went on. "Just because you're our team leader doesn't mean you aren't allowed to struggle. We'd never think less of you for that." Jaz locked eyes with him, bravely staring into the blue. "And I don't think any of us would want you to deal with things alone. If we don't have to, you shouldn't have to either."

He looked down at her boots and swallowed, still at a loss of what to say. Adam didn't know how to navigate this. But he couldn't leave her out there. "Well, why don't you . . . why don't you come in." His voice was hollow; it hadn't escaped her notice. Immediately, she realized he wouldn't look her in the eye, his weary posture shadowed by shame.

Hesitantly, she made her way inside, watching him. This was different than she was used to, but she'd rather have this than the fake smile.

"Need anything to drink?" he asked, still avoiding her eyes.

"No, thanks. I just want to talk. I want to make sure you're okay."

He shook his head. "I'm okay."

"Bullshit."

His gaze snapped up to meet hers.

"Don't lie to me, Top." She paused. "_Please_, don't lie to me."

His stare fell away from her as he brought a hand to his forehead. "Why don't we . . . sit down."

She moved to a seat, still keeping an eye on him. He looked so tired. Even after a forty-eight-hour op with no sleep, he'd never looked this exhausted. It was quiet in here. And the walls seemed to echo with something sad and fearful.

He took a seat across from her, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees.

With a newfound sympathy, Jaz mustered up her courage. "Tell me what you dream about."

Adam shook his head, leaning back into his seat. "No, Jaz. You don't need to know."

"I told you: I heard you talking to Preach. I already know. So tell me. Talk to me about it."

Her eyes dropped to his hands. They were clenched so tightly, the knuckles were white.

"Of all the people, Jaz . . ." He stopped, staring at the coffee table. She could see the redness in his eyes, the subtle shine of tears. "Of all the people, you shouldn't be the one here. After everything, you're the last one that should be here at four in the damn morning."

"And maybe, out of everyone, I'm the one that understands you don't have to carry everything alone." Hell, she just wished it was easier to make him understand. "Know why I couldn't sleep?"

He looked at her. Not answering.

"I was worried about you. About you sitting here alone in this stupid, empty house, trying to deal with things that you help us deal with on a regular basis. You give us these stupidly effective pep talks. You take our calls in the middle of the night without complaining. You're just . . . just there! Damn it, Top. You're always there. But don't push us away when _you _need it. Give us a chance to take those midnight calls. Like Preach said, give _us_ a chance to be there for _you_."

Hot tears collected in her eyes, blurring her vision and threatening to spill over. She wasn't a crier. Never had been. But this seemed like a tear-worthy moment.

"Just turn to somebody," she pressed. "If not me, then Preach or-or whoever the hell you want. Just _talk to somebody_."

He was quiet for a moment, pressing a fist against a loosely open palm. Moments slid by as he fidgeted. She waited.

"Jaz, I . . . I don't really know _how _to tell you."

She took a deep breath. "You just say it, Top. For once, don't be worried about upsetting us. Just say it. We'll take it in stride. We just want to help, and we can't do that if you keep pretending everything's fine." Jaz leaned forward, locking eyes with his. "Tell me what you dream about. You said you dream about not getting me back. Tell me about it."

Jaz could see his hesitation. His stubborn strength in the midst of weariness. It was something she'd always respect about him, even in a moment like this.

Adam breathed through his nose, a sign of surrender. Jaz's stomach churned, unsure of what to expect.

And he began.

"We don't get you back." A heavy pause. Adam struggled to work through the words for a moment, quiet as he collected his thoughts. "You're found dead a week later by someone. Not us. It's never us. Some stranger finds you wherever you've been dumped." He stops, fighting back . . . Rage? Sorrow? She couldn't tell. "All they'll tell us is you've been buried in an unmarked grave. No one could retrieve your body." He pauses again, biting the inside of his lip.

She knows exactly who "they" are. The higher-ups. The unseen workings behind closed doors. People who called the shots.

"We couldn't give you a proper burial. Because of politics, they tell us. Can't risk showing our hand." His brow furrowed. A simple gesture to hold back all the hate, pain, and anger. "And we're just expected to go on, knowing you're buried in foreign soil where no one knows your name. Where no one has the same respect for you as we do." Adam shakes his head. "And every time I wake up, I have to convince myself it didn't happen that way. That your rescue _isn't _the dream. I have to remind myself that you're still here."

He shuts his eyes tightly enough to leave his lashes wet with unshed tears. "I have to convince myself that we didn't leave you behind. That _I _didn't leave you behind."

He stops, staring at the rug for several long minutes. "If it's not that, then I dream that everyone is lost in the rescue mission. We're ambushed. Preach dies first, choking on his own blood. McG goes down second trying to help him. Then Amir. Then it's just me. And I can't save you. I can't save them. Everyone's gone, and it's my fault."

Jaz wanted to embrace him. Just hold him to remind him that he wasn't alone. But somehow, she knew that wouldn't be right for him. At least not now.

"But you did save me. I'm here, the team's here, and we're not going anywhere," she whispered. It all hit her at once. Adam could see all the possibilities with every choice he made, and it haunted him. Every detail.

When she'd thought about her own death while captive in that white, white room, she'd left it at that. At death. The team would grieve. They'd have to move on.

But Adam saw everything. Knew that whoever was in charge couldn't bring her home once she'd died. Knew she'd be left among strangers, even in death. Knew she couldn't be honored like he thought she deserved. The whole idea of it made her feel sick.

Briefly, she wondered what other horrible possibilities he had seen. What he _still _saw.

"My number one priority is getting the four of you home in one piece. With every mission, that's my ultimate goal. When I close my eyes . . . I just see every instance I easily could've failed. Or _have _failed."

Jaz thought about her best friend, her old teammate, and how he'd died on the job. Come to think of it, in the handful of weeks after that, Top was always up first. No matter how early she got out of bed, he'd be in the common area, doing paperwork or some such thing.

And it all suddenly made sense.

"And yet, you're the best CO any of us has ever had."

He looked at her, blue eyes bright.

"For every op, you take risks to protect us. You always put us first, and that has meant so much to us. To all of us. And no matter what happens, at the end of the day, we know how hard you fought for the team. And if not all of us make it, that's not on you. You have to make tough choices all the time. We get that. We'd never blame you. Preach's family would never blame you. Because we all know you'd put your life on the line for us." She smiled. "Actually, you do it all the time."

Adam smirked softly, a shadow of his usual bright demeanor.

"It's okay if you have nightmares. We all have them. We don't talk about it, but we all have them." She pursed her lips, looking to the ceiling. "Some nights, I see you dropping in that field on the border of China, and you just never get back up." Jaz stopped, staring down at her hands as she hooked her fingers together, twisting them. Adam didn't say a word. "When I wake up, I call you." She looked up, catching his eyes. "Just to make sure you really got up. That you're fine. And most of the time, that's all it takes."

His eyes didn't leave hers.

"If you have a nightmare, just call. It wouldn't bother us; we get it." She huffed. "And if there's one thing you should know, Top, it's that you've earned all our respect. We have your back. And we'll never think less of you for just being _human_. We won't think you're weaker or . . . or unfit for leadership. We won't stop looking to you for solutions or direction. Nothing will change."

She paused. "It's okay to be vulnerable sometimes. We all are."

There was something soft, something delicate in the blue of his eyes. "What if it's too much? Too often?" he whispered.

Her heart ached. Deeply. Painfully.

"Top, if you need to call us every single night, then do it. We'll take your call every hour if we have to. If it's the middle of the afternoon and you just _want _someone around, then say so. Just . . . just _say so._"

Adam wasn't sure how to take it. The very idea was so foreign to him. But looking at Jaz, he felt like he'd let her down if he didn't try. For her, he could try.

"Okay."

Jaz let the words sink in. Silence settled in the room like dust.

She smiled. "Okay."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Jaz startled awake, dazed as she tried to figure out what pulled her from a decent slumber.

What time was it?

Confused and bleary-eyed, she squinted in the darkness, turning to her bedside table.

Her phone rang.

That would explain it.

Scrambling to pick up the phone, she answered before even looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?" She cleared her throat, closing her eyes.

". . ."

Her eyes opened slowly, blinking in the darkness. "Top?"

It was him. She just knew it. Something about the silence on the other end.

"I'm sorry . . . I shouldn't have called so late."

"No, no. You should have." A pause. "You're not cleaning again, are you?"

He chuckled. "No. No, I'm not cleaning."

"Good, 'cause that's hella weird that you do that." She was trying to lighten the mood. Like he'd done for her—for all of them—so many times before. But it was harder than she thought it would be. At least, when it came to Top, it was difficult. "I mean, I avoid cleaning at all costs, even when—"

"Jaz?"

"Yeah?"

The faint sound of crickets sang from outside her window. Neither of them said a word as the seconds ticked by. Jaz waited anxiously, until he finally spoke.

"You're really here, aren't you? We got you out, right?"

She hesitated. Her chest hurt, thinking about the ghosts in his head. His voice sounded so small. Unsure. A little broken.

"Yeah, Top. I'm here. You got me out." Her throat burned with fresh emotion. "You got me out."

The quiet was back. Heavy. Emotional. Relieved. It spoke volumes, standing timidly in the stillness of the evening.

"Okay. I just wanted to make sure."

Jaz took a deep breath, staring down at her lap.

"Top?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks for calling."

She could almost hear the ghost of a smile as he said farewell.

So maybe she didn't have to worry about him so much after all.


End file.
